Lizzie Versus the Zombies
by LordCthulhu
Summary: Lizzie wakes up to a world that is no longer her own. Can she survive against the onslaught of the living dead?
1. Chapter 1

Lizzie's eyes opened to darkness. This seemed odd to Lizzie, because living in southern California, she was used to the sun being up before her. Normally, the rest of her family was also up before her.

That was the next strange thing she noticed. The sounds. There were none. Matt wasn't yelling that he couldn't find his shoes, and her Dad wasn't bumbling around downstairs trying to collect his work papers into his briefcase. It was quiet.

She lay in the bed for what seemed like several minutes. The quiet darkness felt strange to her. Part of it pulled at her mind, like the touch of a friend, and another jabbed spikes at her overactive imagination, sending images of monsters and other horrors lurking beyond the limited scope of her senses. She looked over at the digital readout from her bedside clock, and she saw that she had only been lying there for three minutes. She was tempted to close her eyes and go back to sleep, but she knew she had school today and sleeping any later would only make her late for class.

Lizzie peeled the comforter off, letting the cool dark air rush in to crawl along her skin. She sat up on the edge of the bed, sliding her feet into the slightly chilly insides of her fluffy slippers. She slipped off the edge of the bed and stretched in the darkness of the room. She looked to the window where no sunlight peeked in, no indication that it was even morning. Dark storm clouds hung low in the sky, obscuring any vision of the bright California sun.

She padded over to her closet and flipped the light on inside. She opened the door and surveyed her collection of clothes. With an eye towards the weather, she picked out a light blue t-shirt with the slogan "I heart Hugs" written across the front in puffy multi-colored iron-ons. A pair of brown hip hugger pants and brown open-toed flats for shoes completed the ensemble.

Lizzie turned and threw the items onto her bed. They landed with a soft "whump" on the turned back comforter. She flipped the closet light off and headed to the other door, leading into the hallway. Two things happened at that moment, causing Lizzie to catch her breath in her throat.

She noticed that her constant companion, the little voice inside her head, her "monkey" as she called it sometimes, was quiet. Not a sound, not a single word since she woke up. The voice wasn't gone; it just wasn't saying anything.

The second thing was the solitary "bang!" that came from the hallway. It was a little noise, nothing remarkable in the course of everyday events. This time, the sound rattled through the quiet house like the ricochet of a gunshot. Lizzie jumped at the sound, scared and relieved.

That one sound meant that someone was out there. Lizzie didn't know if they were playing some kind of practical joke on her, but she was going to find out. Running her hands through her hair, pulling it up and ratting it enough so that it stood up from her head. Lizzie tried to be quiet as she turned the doorknob, hoping to get the jump on what was probably Matt pulling a practical joke on her. She pulled open the door to the hallway and leapt out into the hallway yelling "Boo!" in her loudest voice.

The solitary occupant of the hallway seemed a lot less surprised than Lizzie. Lizzie stumbled back from her "boo" position, both hands formed into claws above her head, her knees bent and legs spread wide.

In fact, the person in the hallway wasn't anyone from her family at all; it was Mr. Brown from next door. His shoulders were slumped over, exactly like Lizzie remembered when he had come over to borrow some gas for his lawnmower a week ago. He was wearing an old brown sweater; the yarn had stretched in places leaving holes in it. A dark stain ran down the front of his shirt underneath the sweater.

Lizzie stumbled backwards and then caught herself. She made an "eww" face when she saw the stain on his shirt, but she replaced it with a smile before she called out. "Mr. Brown?" she said.

Mr. Brown's head swiveled upwards in a slow motion arc, like it was some great effort for him to lift his head.

Lizzie gasped and stepped backwards. Dark rings surrounded Mr. Brown's eyes and dark brownish-red drool dripped from the right side of his mouth. His eyes were a glaring yellow color that reflected the light from the hallway lamp. Now she could smell him too, it was a rotten smell, like he had been working in his garden and forgot to wash up before he came over.

Brown's mouth opened and a low guttural moan yawned outwards as he rushed towards Lizzie. His arms rose up in a grasping motion towards Lizzie, his legs kicked out from beneath him and he sprung forward. He stumbled just a little on the loose carpet covering the hardwood floors, but it didn't slow him down as charged headlong at her.

Lizzie tried to step backwards, but there was only air behind her. Her back to the stairs she lost her balance and started her fall down the staircase just as Mr. Brown's hands twisted into her nightshirt. Lizzie's was too far off balance when he latched onto her and both of them tumbled down the dark mahogany stairs. The carpeting tacked onto the top of each stair did little to stop the pain as each stair butted into her soft skin. A jumble of arms and legs, bumps and bruises, was all that remained as their rapid descent was cut short as they landed on the floor at the base of the stairs.

Blackness and blossoming stars of deep colors obscured Lizzie's vision as her head fell to the floor, the final toll on her already strained consciousness. She looked up enough to see that she was lying almost directly on top of Mr. Brown now, but there was nothing she could do about it, her eyes closed and the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Sharp spikes of pain ripped through her head. A regular parade of them, each one accompanied by a sound like metal being ripped. Each time started a new wave of pressure that traveled through her skull and all the way down her spine.

Lizzie opened her eyes. She was looking at the ceiling. The phone was ringing. The phone was ringing!

Lizzie tried to jump up but a wave of nausea pushed her back down as her right hand slipped along the floor. She landed back where she started with a painful delicate crash against the carpet underneath her. She tried again, moving slower this time and using her left hand to support herself. She was horrified to see that her right hand had been slipping on a clear fluid leaking from a visible crack in Mr. Brown's head. She was partially perched on top of Mr. Brown's now still body. Stifling an impulse to throw up and trying not to scream, she pulled her hand from the viscous fluid and rolled off the body beneath her, landing on the wooden floor with a soundless bump.

Lizzie scrambled away from the corpse. Her mind not processing the information it was being fed. Things like this didn't happen in Lizzie's world, it was too strange. The sound of the phone was the only thing that brought Lizzie back to the world as it began to swim before her eyes.

The phone continued to ring as Lizzie made her way across the floor, crawling on her hands and feet. Her stomach felt like someone had planted a 100-pound writhing snake in her stomach and it tried to squirm its way out with each sound, each movement. Every part of her ached and seethed with pain as she made it to the table. She reached up for the phone and pulled the receiver down to her ear. Part of her was just glad to hear it stop ringing.

"Hello." Her voice was muddied by pain and confusion.

"You have to help me!" There were sounds of banging in the background, loud enough so that Lizzie could hear them.

Lizzie's still confused brain tried to identify the voice on the phone. It wasn't Miranda, it wasn't her Mom, but it was a female voice. She just couldn't relate the sounds to anyone she knew.

"Oh God, help me!" Screams came from the phone again. "He's trying to kill me." Lizzie could now hear the sound of an alarm in the background. The phone went dead in her hand.

Lizzie dropped the phone onto the floor. The receiver lay broadcasting its dead air into the silence of the room. Lizzie looked around, her eyes trying to make sense of what she saw around her.

No sunlight filled the always-cheery house with its intoxicating presence today. Cold darkness was the only gift from the ominous preternaturally dark clouds covering the sky. The patio door in the kitchen looked like it had been smashed in. A trail of dark fluid led into the kitchen. Lizzie saw something she couldn't identify at first, something out of place. At first it looked like a small blue towel was standing up in the air. Blinking she forced the cobwebs from her head and looked again, the towel now resolved itself into one of her father's slippers. Inside the slipper was his foot. Lizzie's hand went to her mouth and an overwhelming urge to start crying flashed over her. She turned her head to avoid the sight.

It was then that her constant companion decided to return. "Get up." The voice inside her was no longer that of a 14-year old girl. The voice was hard and firm, it sounded like her Mom when she got angry or very determined. For a moment, Lizzie almost thought it was her Mom, but then she realized that the voice came from inside her head.

Stifling back a sniffle, Lizzie levered herself up with the help of the table. She took one hesitant step across the floor towards the kitchen and the incongruous slipper pointing upwards. The cold floor sent a chill through her. Lizzie looked down to see that she had lost one of her slippers in the tumble down the stairs. She half-turned around to see if she could find it, but then swiveled back to face the kitchen. The slipper could wait; she needed to see if her Dad was hurt.

That thought swept away the last vestiges of fuzziness from her thinking. It even managed to alleviate some of the pain that she still felt from the fall. She moved across the floor and stepped into the kitchen.

Her father's body lay on the pristine white tiles of the kitchen floor. A stain spread around him like a painters vicious attack on a canvas. Blood was all over the floor. Smears broke the dainty edges of the pool causing it to spread wider. She only knew it was her father because of the yellow ducky pajamas he wore and the blue terrycloth slippers on his feet. She couldn't identify his face, and in fact, she couldn't even be sure his head was still there. Everything above his shoulders was a mass of gore and blood with no recognizable parts.

Lizzie sobbed once, falling to the floor again. She tried to turn away from the sight, but she just kept searching the area around her father's shoulders for his face. She couldn't see anything that made it him.

Lizzie stood back up. "Mom!" The wail sounded tiny in the cold and dark house. Lizzie ran towards the stairs. Taking two steps at a time, she bounded up the stairs. At the top, she noticed the dark red and brown stains that went up and down the hallway in front of the family's rooms. She looked towards her parent's room and noticed the stained trail led inside, the door wide open. Slowly, Lizzie walked down the hallway, hoping that she wouldn't find what she suspected was already there. Reaching the edge of the doorway, she took a deep breath and peeked in around the corner.

A single flash of the scene was all she needed. Something that would haunt her forever. The first impression she got was red. But her parent's room was painted yellow. The bright yellow paint shone brightly against the scarlet red that covered most of the wall behind their bed. Something lay in the bed, but it was also red, just like the stains that seeped through the once white sheets and comforter. A smell that reminded her of being on a farm wafted from the room. She shut her eyes and ducked back around the corner. She didn't need to see anymore.

Opening her eyes again, Lizzie turned and looked down the hallway towards Matt's room. The trail also led there, and the door was also open.

Quelling the rising panic in her mind, Lizzie walked with a stiff step down the hallway. She was mere feet away from the door when she heard something. It was a small sound, like someone shuffling around inside Matt's room, but in the quiet house, it was as loud as a cannon's roar.

Fear washed over Lizzie. She felt paralyzed, the visions of her parents and the phone call froze in her mind, her body wasn't responding. Part of her wanted to flee screaming out the front door, the other part of her wanted to fly into a rage and take vengeance on whatever had done this to her world.

Slowly, her fears and her tears subsided, she felt marginally in control of herself. Pulling her body up straight, she took one more step and pushed open the door of Matt's room.


	3. Chapter 3

The door swung open without a sound as Lizzie stepped in. She curled her nose at the offensive smells trapped inside. A smell like raw meat mixed with garbage clogged the air, making it hard to breathe. Lizzie turned, looking past Matt's empty bed.

The unlit room was filled with shadows, but there was enough light for Lizzie to see someone standing in the furthest corner of the room. It wasn't Matt, because the figure was too tall. There was something wrong with the figure, but Lizzie couldn't identify it immediately. It took her a second, but then she realized that it was missing its left arm.

Lizzie slowly reached up and turned on the overhead light, instantly illuminating the room in the warm yellow light. The person standing in the corner of the room looked up.

Lizzie recognized the face. It was Andrew Hanson from three houses down. He was two grades above her; she had a crush on him when she was in fourth grade. He was a star basketball player for his team in high school, but that was over now. His left arm had been torn off at the shoulder. Blood and black ichor stained his clothes, what was left of them. His carefully groomed dreadlocks were now in a complete state of disarray with bits of bloody flesh sticking to them.

He looked up at Lizzie when the light came on. One of his eyes had been torn from its socket and now hung down his face, swinging grotesquely. His mouth opened letting escape a moan of pain and hunger. He started to shuffle towards Lizzie, his steps almost uncertain.

Lizzie looked around the room, Matt's baseball bat was right beside the door. She picked it up and hefted it in her hands.

"Stay back!" Lizzie backed out of the door. She pulled the door closed and kept backing down the corridor. She stood in the center, holding the baseball bat like a samurai sword, not sure what she was waiting for, but prepared.

A thump on the door signaled that Andrew was now at the door. Another thump, like he was pounding on the door, trying to get out. Lizzie couldn't figure it out, what was wrong, why were people wandering around her house at this time of the morning? Where was Matt?

The thought of her mother and father made Lizzie lower the bat just a little. Tears came back to her eyes; she blinked to try to clear them. She stepped backwards a few more steps and was even with her bedroom door. She took one more look at Matt's bedroom door. The thumping continued.

Lizzie went into her room and locked the door behind her, like she always did. Laying the bat on the bed, she quickly threw off her pajamas, grabbed some clean underwear and a bra from the dresser. She got dressed in her clothes as quick as possible, all the while wiping the tears from her eyes. The thumping on Matt's door continued. It was almost hypnotic in its staccato rhythm.

Lizzie almost screamed when there was a thump on her door. She listened and heard the thump on Matt's door, but there was another thump on her door right after that. Her eyes widened at the thought. There were more people out there! Standing beside the door, Lizzie whispered. "Hello?"

The only reply was another thump.

Speaking louder this time, another "Hello?"

Another thump.

She snatched the bat from the bed and crossed back to the door. A hardened resolve built in her; she wouldn't let these people invade her home. She had to find Matt. She couldn't help her parents, but she would help Matt, no matter what she had to do. "Hello?" she said.

Only more thumps from Matt's bedroom door and hers. The thump from Matt's door was accompanied by the sound of wood cracking.

Standing to the left of the door, Lizzie steadied the bat in one hand, reached over and unlocked the door. One shaking hand slowly turned the door handle until the next thump pushed it out of her hand and the door opened without a sound.

One mud covered foot stepped down on the beautiful soft yellow carpet. The body that followed was wet and smelled like wet dogs and garbage.

Backing away from the wall, she kept the bat between her and the intruder. She didn't recognize the face that gazed back at her without recognition.

"Get out of my house!" Lizzie's voice sound high and screechy in the room and maybe it was, but she couldn't tell. She was terrified beyond all comprehension. Whatever was standing in front of her shouldn't be able to stand, much less walk into her house and pound on her bedroom door. Bloodied hands missing fingernails and some fingers still bent backwards reached through the air towards her. A face with half of the lower jaw missing yawned in anticipation. A steak knife was plunged in the creature's leg, buried to the hilt. No blood ran from the knife wound, even though Lizzie could see the torn and aggravated flesh around the blade.

The creature stumbled towards Lizzie, still reaching out, trying to grasp her. Lizzie swung the bat with both hands. The swing managed to knock the creature's clutching fingers away, but did not stop its determined march towards her. Stepping back with one foot, Lizzie brought the bat up and behind her shoulder, like she remembered from phy-ed class. Moving her back foot forward she swung with her hips and shoulders, temporarily stepping inside the creature's reach as the bat cracked soundly into the man's ribs.

Bones cracked and fluids splattered from the hard blow, Lizzie could feel the solidness of the strike. The monster teetered off balance and fell towards the dresser. It toppled down to the floor in a clatter dragging Lizzie jewelry box down with it. Taking the opportunity, Lizzie stepped over the creature and raised the bat again. She swung as hard as she could and connected directly with the creature's skull.

A dull "bonk" sound came from the wooden bat. She raised the bat again and aimed for the same place. She didn't count the number of times she hit the body on the floor. She kept hitting until it stopped moving. Her pants were covered in spattered blood and the bat was uniformly coated in shiny red fluid.

The bed sank a little under her as she sat down. The area in front of her closet was in sharp contrast to the rest of her happy room. Mud streaked tracks from the hallway led into her room where they ended in a blood and gore spattered scene of violent death. Lizzie couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Through it all, the pounding from Matt's door never stopped. Now Lizzie noticed it was no longer there. Lizzie looked up from the bed and saw Andrew standing at the doorway to the bedroom. Surprised she still had the strength, Lizzie charged across the room with the bat raised above her head. A hoarse cry came from her as she landed a frenzy of blows on Andrew's body.


	4. Chapter 4

Minutes later Lizzie stood over the still corpse of Andrew. Her breathing came in harsh gasps. Sweat poured from her forehead, soaking into the neckline of her t-shirt. The front of her pants were now a solid red-black, wet and heavy with the accumulated blood from both corpses.

Grasping the bat in one trembling hand, weak from exertion, Lizzie clumsily traversed the hallway to her brother's bedroom. No blood on the bed. The white fan-fold closet doors were closed. Lizzie stepped over to the doors, holding the bat high with one hand. The position had no strength, but it was at least threatening and it made her feel better.

She pulled open one door, surprised at the mess inside the closet. Comic books, model cars, boxes, and baseball cards were heaped in a pile on the floor. Clothes haphazardly hung from hangers. The other door folded back, revealing the other half of the barely controlled chaos that was Matt's closet, but there was no Matt.

Lizzie turned, searching the room in vain. She knelt down on both knees and peered under the bed but was unable to see anything because of the quantity of dirty clothes and other items shoved underneath. Standing back up, she sighed, as she did so, the curtain above Matt's bed fluttered. Lizzie stared at the window for a moment and then she smiled. Matt was a smart boy; he probably fled through the window when everything started. She would have done the same if she knew what she knew now. There was no way he could have warned her because Andrew was probably already in his room.

Lizzie went back to the hallway, looked at the corpse lying in the doorway of her bedroom and headed down the stairs. She stepped over the still form of Mr. Brown at the foot of the stairs and headed to the phone. She picked it up and dialed Miranda's number from memory. The phone rang twice before someone picked it up and said "Hello?" in a very quiet voice.

"Miranda?" Lizzie was surprised and overjoyed to hear the voice of her friend.

"Lizzie?" came the hushed voice.

"Miranda, are you okay?" Lizzie's voice broke a little as she felt relief wash over her. One of her best friends and maybe even her brother were still alive. She tried to gloss over her parents in her mind because she didn't want to break down on the phone to Miranda.

"No. Someone's in my house and my parents are gone. What should I do Lizzie?" Miranda's voice was panicked and hurried, even more than normal.

"Stay where you are, I'll be there in a couple of minutes. Whatever you do, keep hidden!" Lizzie dropped the handset back on the receiver. She hefted the bat over her shoulder and headed out into the black morning air.

Avoiding the streetlights and anything else that moved Lizzie worked her way towards Miranda's house. Her mind skittered over the thoughts that filled her mind. Where was Matt? What was going on? Why did she recognize the person in the first frantic phone call? She was over a block away from her house when she first thought of Gordo. She hadn't called Gordo! There was nothing to be done now; she had to go to Miranda.

Slipping in and out of the shadows with a skill she didn't know she had, Lizzie was at Miranda's house in just a few minutes. Like so many other houses she had passed by, the front door was open and all of the lights were off.

Lizzie approached the front door, her body hunched over in an excited state. The blood slicked bat still rested on one shoulder. At the entrance to the home, Lizzie stopped before she went inside. She crouched down and stared into the dark interior. Her mouth opened ever so slightly, catching the faint whiff she remembered from the two dead men in her bedroom. Her hearing sharpened as she calmed her breath, she listened for any sound inside the house. Miranda was almost certainly in her bedroom, probably hiding in the closet. So where were the creature or creatures.

A sound from her right, in the living room, caused Lizzie to focus in on the brief scrape. Lizzie reached inside and flipped the switch for the hallway light and charged into the room at the same time. She saw a single darkened figure in the living room, slowly turning towards her. Her movement was quiet as she dashed across the shag carpet, the bat raised over her head, ready to deliver another lethal series of blows.

Lizzie started her swing when she was two steps away from the creature. She only had a moment to see the face of Miranda's mother before the bat landed with a crunching and cracking sound.

The bat became unbalanced in Lizzie's hands as the top third of the bat had splintered and the remainder of the shattered wood hung from the end. Lizzie stumbled backwards and her knees buckled as she encountered the couch, leaving her sitting on the couch, holding the broken remains of the bat, staring up at what was once Miranda's mother.

Lizzie watched as the once living woman moved towards her. Waiting until Mrs. Sanchez was standing over her, Lizzie pushed herself up from the couch with one hand, and used the other hand to jab upwards with the splintered end of the baseball bat.

The sharp splinters of wood pierced the dead flesh of Mrs. Sanchez under her mouth, pushing inward. Lizzie felt the bat lose its momentum and get lodged in the underside of Mrs. Sanchez's chin. On her feet now, Lizzie held the protruding end of the bat in one hand and used the palm of her hand to drive the bat upwards into Mrs. Sanchez's still moving mouth. Black viscuous fluid flowed down the handle of the bat as Lizzie wrestled with Mrs. Sanchez and the bat, trying to drive the wood deeper and deeper. Lizzie fought off the clawing hands, brushing them away time after time as she continued to jam the bat upwards.

The battling duo fell to the ground as Lizzie tried to get more leverage on her makeshift stake. Lizzie landed on top of Mrs. Sanchez's gore covered body. Jumping to her feet, she took aim and kicked the bat deeper into the skull of the still struggling woman. The jagged end of the bat punched through the back of her skull, dumping the liquified remains inside her head onto the floor. Its eyes still open, black fluids ran from the wounds on its face. Lizzie looked down at the remains of Mrs. Sanchez. Intestines trailed outward from her brutalized abdomen, leading across the room to another corner.

Back on her feet, Lizzie hesitated for a moment before she followed the line of intestines to the darkened corner. There was no surprise in her when she saw the partially consumed remains of a body there. She knew it wasn't Miranda because a mans' chest was exposed in the dim light. Ribs showed through where the flesh had been gnawed to the bone. She couldn't be certain that it was Miranda's father either because like the other corpses she had seen that night, the head was a mess, just a indistinguishable pile of gore at the top of the shoulders.

Turning away, she bounded up the steps to the second floor. She yelled out, "Miranda!" when she reached the small hallway at the top of the stairs. "It's me Lizzie!" Her voice echoed around the rooms. Only one door was shut and it was Mirandas.

Lizzie stood in front of the door and used their secret knock. They had come up with it when they were in their 'spy phase' several years ago. Three short knocks, followed by two long knocks. Rustling sounds came from inside the room, when Lizzie suddenly realized that she didn't have a weapon. She didn't know what condition Miranda was in, or even if it was her in the room. Stepping away, she put herself at an angle with the door and waited.

Slow footsteps crossed the room and the sounds of the lock changing. Lizzie tensed herself to run as fast as she could down the stairs if needed.

A small voice came from behind the now opening door, "Lizzie?"

"Miranda!" Lizzie stepped into the doorway and grabbed Miranda in a hug.

"Lizzie!" Miranda squeaked as Lizzie squeezed her. "Let go!" Miranda squeaked again.

Lizzie let Miranda go to see Miranda gasping for air.

"When did you get so strong?" Miranda said after she caught her breath. She held her hand to her side, still feeling Lizzie's iron grip from moments before.

Lizzie looked at Miranda and cocked her head, "What?" From inside, her inner voice spoke again, just three words. "Everything is different."

"C'mon, we have to get going," Lizzie said. She turned on Miranda and headed towards the stairs.

"Wait, what's happening Lizzie?" Miranda's voice was still coming out higher pitched than normal.

Lizzie turned back towards Miranda. "I don't know, but I know we can't stay here, it's too dangerous. Those things probably heard me downstairs and I think they're attracted to sound. We have to go, get Gordo, and get to the school."

"Why are we going to the school?" Miranda started to follow Lizzie down the stairs.

Lizzie spoke over her shoulder, "I never thought I'd say this, but, we have to help Kate."


	5. Chapter 5

Dim light showed from the bottom of the stairs as Lizzie descended. She thought it was probably from the street lamp outside. When she reached the last step, she turned to Miranda. "Miranda, close your eyes," she said.

"Why?"

"Because there are things you don't want to see down here," Lizzie replied. "Here, I'll take your hand, but whatever you do, don't open your eyes." Lizzie reached out and took Miranda's hand in hers. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Lizzie guided Miranda down the last couple of stairs and onto the blood soaked carpet in the living room. Lizzie's foot bumped into something as she turned to direct Miranda around the debris strewn about the floor. She looked down and grimaced at Mrs. Sanchez's head which was inches away from her feet. Lizzies sneakers made a squishing sound as she sank into the damp carpet.

"What was that?" Miranda asked, her voice too loud in the quiet living room.

"Nothing, keep moving," Lizzie hissed her voice getting quieter. "And keep quiet."

"Lizzie, I'm scared," Miranda whispered.

"We're almost there," Lizzie replied. Lizzie looked down at the mangled corpse of Miranda's mother. Part of her wanted to flinch and run screaming from the room, but her resolve held and she pulled Miranda's hand harder as she hurried past.

They stepped out into the fresh air. "You can open your eyes," Lizzie said.

Miranda opened her eyes. "Where are my parents?" she asked.

"In there," Lizzie said. Her voice carried an ominous tone.

Miranda looked through the darkness at Lizzie. Her eyes began to well up with tears. "Are they dead?" she asked.

"Yes." A single, short curt answer.

"But, Lizzie..." Miranda said.

"No, Miranda, listen. There is nothing you can do for them. I know. We have to keep moving." Lizzie's voice was dangerous now.

Miranda followed meekly, she was intimidated by Lizzie's tone. She could tell something was different, but she couldn't quite identify it.

Lizzie led the way through the darkened streets without error. It was like a homing sense pulling her back home. She knew she had to get to Gordo, even if it was to confirm what she hoped wasn't true.

She stopped across the street from the two darkened houses. Hers was shone with lights on the second floor and coming from the kitchen. Right beside it was Gordo's house, no lights came from the windows.

Lizzie shivered, not because the cool air and thin shirt she wore. If Gordo was in there, what condition was he in? Would she be able to deal with him if he was one of those things? This line of thought brought up a fountain of emotions she barely knew she was holding back. Tears trickled down her blood-caked face. They were silent, strong tears though. If she saw Gordo alive again, they had a lot to talk about.

"Miranda, follow me, but if we run into anyone who looks like they are sick, get away. There are a lot of very sick people out today and they will try to hurt us both." Lizzie turned back to look at Miranda.

The same hard look that Lizzie felt had crept into Miranda's eyes. Miranda's eyes shifted from their distant look back to Lizzie. "I'll be okay Lizzie, let's get Gordo."

Lizzie grabbed a fallen tree branch from the ground. She broke it off about halfway leaving a piece about twice as long as her arm and as round as a baseball bat. The makeshift weapon felt light in her hand. They were halfway across the street when it started to lightly rain.

She slid into the doorway of Gordo's house with Miranda two steps behind her. Shadows from the light outside created eerie shadows in the spacious living room. Lizzie didn't see anything that looked like signs of struggle anywhere in the room. She didn't want to go around behind the stairs to the dining room or the kitchen to check those out unless she had too. She looked up the stairs and began creeping slowly up them.

"Lizzie!" Miranda said in a whisper.

Lizzie jumped a little and looked back. "What?" she whispered back.

"I'll stay here, if anyone comes, I'll let you know." Miranda's resolve was still in place. The core of strength that Lizzie had relied on before was back. Miranda was her other best friend, and she knew she could trust her.

"Okay," Lizzie turned back and continued her ascent of the stairs. Once at the top, she looked up and down the corridor. Almost the same layout as her house, Gordo's room was directly in front of her and his parents were to the left. All the doors were closed. Lizzie almost started crying again when she saw dark smears about eye level on the wall next to the doors of both rooms.

Closing her eyes, Lizzie breathed in deeply. She tried to prepare herself for whatever was up there. She climbed the last few steps and moved to the leftmost door. Her hand shook as she turned the brass knob. Pushing the door just enough to get it to swing on its own, she peered inside. It was dark, but the heavily filtered daylight still showed Lizzie more than she needed. It was almost a mirror image of her dead parent's room. The covers thrown about, dark splotches on the walls and sheets. Bodies lying on the floor. She saw that both bodies were adult-sized and a thrill went through her heart. Maybe Gordo was still alive!

She pulled the door closed. One more room and she would know. The tension in her body was more than just the events of the morning, an aching ran through her that she was only now becoming aware of. Her mind flashed through the possibilities of what happened to Gordo. Most of them she didn't want to acknowledge, but her newfound inner strength made her face them. She would do what she had to, it was what Gordo would want.

She stood in front of Gordo's door, light came from under the door, but no sounds came from inside. Lizzie agonized for moments, should she knock, should she just barge in, weapon in hand?

Lizzie knocked lightly on the door. It swung open. Forty watt light filled the room from the desk lamp on Gordo's familiar crowded but organized desk. Sitting in front of the desk with his back to the door was Gordo.


End file.
